"Come on, slowpoke," Monica Berry teases, glancing down at her Fitbit watch.

Jogging in place, Monica waits for her lagging husband to catch up. Joaquin draws up beside her and drops his hands to his knees, breathing heavily.

"That bout with pneumonia is still kicking my butt, hon. I can't run like I used to."

"Aw, baby," Monica gushes playfully, wrapping both arms around Joaquin and drawing him close. "You want some cheese with that whine?"

Joaquin smirks and rolls his eyes skyward. Pecking Monica twice on the lips, Joaquin issues a wry laugh.

"You can laugh about it, Monica. You weren't the one in a hospital coughing up a whole lung. I thought I was gonna die. So did my mom. She had all kinds of people visiting me with gifts and everything. You remember?"

"Oh, I remember. That woman was constantly getting in my way and on my case. I kept my distance the whole time. Two years of marriage and she hates me just as much as she did when we were dating. I'm sorry you feel so bad, Quin. I was only kidding."

"It's not that bad, Monica. I mean...It's bad. I feel like crap most of the time, but that's part of getting better. Give it two or three more weeks. I'll be back in peak shape. Bet."

"Okay. But, in the meantime, I get to gloat," Monica says between a high-pitched laugh. "There was a time when I could never beat you running. Now, I've got it made. Hahaha."

Resuming her stationary jogging, Monica grins slyly. Joaquin returns his wife's gleeful grin, his eyes speaking volumes about the ways in which he plans to punish her for her insolence. A punishment she will quite enjoy.

A loud rumble interrupts Joaquin's scheming. Monica peers down at her watch again, a disappointed expression on her face. Joaquin gazes up at the sky, observing the total absence of rain clouds.

"There's no mention of a thunderstorm in today's forecast. And I'm not getting any local weather alerts. Maybe it was a plane."

The words are hardly out of Monica's mouth before another loud rumble shatters the early evening air. The thunderclap is immediately followed by a brilliant flash of lightning. And another clap of thunder. Joaquin motions for Monica to draw close to him. Despite the absence of a single rain cloud, large droplets begin falling from the sky. Where the drops land, oval splotches dot the hardened dirt of the jogging trail.

"Guess that wasn't a plane. Come on, hon. We need to get out of the rain. I have zero plans of getting sick again. Not if I can help it," Joaquin urges his wife. "The park has a gazebo. We can wait out the storm there."

Monica takes off the jacket of her jogging suit and offers half of it to Joaquin to use as a makeshift umbrella. Joaquin smiles gratefully and the two lovebirds hunker under Monica's jacket. They make their way up the trail, headed for the park. Before long, the storm is fully upon them.

=====================================

"Whoa," Joaquin exclaims over the roaring wind. "That is not Eddy Park!"

Monica stares unbelieving at the enormous circus tent sitting in the wide clearing, where she and Joaquin both remember Eddy Park used to be.

"When did they bulldoze the park?" Monica inquires, confusion in her tone. "Did you hear anything about it online or in the paper?"

"No. Debbie, my coworker, meets her ex here every Friday. To drop off her kid. She never said anything about the city bulldozing Eddy Park. If anyone would know...It'd be Debbie. That woman knows everything. Or she thinks she does."

"This doesn't make any sense, Joaquin. Did we take a wrong turn or something?"

"No. Look, that tree with the gnarled roots. That's where the monkey bars used to be. And that stump...Is where Little Mario fell last summer. 'Member, he cut his knee up real bad? We're in the right place. The park just ain't here."

"So now what?" Monica pouts. "We should have just gone home. I am soaked. You're soaked. And there's no gazebo. At least, if we were soaked at home...We could warm each other up."

Joaquin gently pulls Monica close and glances at the tent standing several meters away. He nestles his face into Monica's soaking hair and kisses her scalp.

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"We'll be okay, MonMon," Joaquin says in a reassuring voice. "There's that big tent over there. It will at least get us out of the rain."

"What if lightning strikes it? There's metal poles all over that thing."

"It's all we got, Monica."

Monica is still unsure. She stares at the circus tent with narrowed eyes. Something about this entire chain of events seems weird. Even ominous. An abandoned circus tent in the middle of what should be Eddy Park. Sure, nothing strange about that at all.

"I don't know, Joaquin. I don't think that's--"

A bright flash of lightning turns the surrounding area purple, a giant bolt rippling across the darkening sky. Thunder crashes a moment later. Joaquin grips his wife's hand and pulls her toward the large tent.

"No choice, hon. Let's go. We've got to get out of this storm."

"Joaquin, no," Monica says, pulling back in the other direction. "Let's just go home."

"Yes, Monica. Come on. This storm is not letting up. I don't want you hurt, and I can't risk getting sick again. We'll be okay. It's just a tent."

Monica relents and allows herself to be led to the circus tent. Joaquin holds open one of the front flaps and Monica ducks unnecessarily to get inside. Habit. It's what they always do in the movies.

Monica peers around, letting her eyes adjust to the darkness. Joaquin comes to stand beside her, placing his large hands on both of her shoulders. Turning Monica to face him, Joaquin kisses her tenderly. He holds her chin in one hand, as they separate, and stares down into her face. Joaquin can barely make out Monica's face in the dim light, but it is a face he has thoroughly memorized--a face he could identify even in his sleep.

"I told you we'd be okay. It even sounds like the storm is slacking off. Well, just a little. We'll wait here for a little while, dry off, warm up a bit. Maybe even have some quiet make-out time."

Monica clicks her tongue and rolls her eyes. To this, Joaquin laughs softly. He pecks his wife on the lips and wraps his arms around her middle.

"That's just wrong, Joaquin."

"Who's gonna see us? There's no one here. Shouldn't have left a big ole tent out in the middle of our park. You telling me you don't think a few teenagers haven't been up in here making friendly? Besides, it's like you said...If we were at home--."

Rather than finish his statement, Joaquin buries his mouth in the flesh of Monica's neck--in the space above her collarbone. Monica closes her eyes and smiles.

A smell like burning hair fills the tent, stinging Monica's nose. The odor causes her stomach to lurch. The feeling is reminiscent of how Monica felt every time she visited her mother's beauty shoppe as a small child. A similar smell would fill the shoppe every time her mother hotcombed a client's hair. It made her sick then. It is making her sick now.

"Joaquin, what is that? What is that smell?"

Joaquin stops kissing Monica's neck long enough to give her a confused stare.

"What smell?"

"You don't smell that? It smells like...Burning hair...Or fur. Something like that. I always smelled it when I was a kid. In my mother's hair shoppe. It...I hated that smell."

Joaquin commences kissing Monica's throat, trying to turn her mind onto other things.

"It's nothing, babe. I don't smell anything. Maybe a tree has been struck or something. Could just be in the air. Relax. It's fine."

Monica slowly allows herself to relax. Hoping Joaquin is right, but fearing he is not.

Abruptly, bright light fills the tent. Joaquin's head jerks up as if a pistol has been fired. His first instinct is to draw Monica tighter to him.

At the center of the gigantic tent stands an attractive woman dressed in an elegant purple suit. At a glance, the woman is quite beautiful. However, there is a ripple of danger or menace in her countenance. The woman's piercing green eyes seem to look straight through Joaquin. Both of her slender hands are crossed at her middle; long, black nails gleaming in the light. In one hand, she holds a black cane with a golden tip. The cane's tip rests on the floor between the woman's partially spread legs. Joaquin's eyes sweep over the woman's entire form. She is indeed very attractive.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am," Joaquin manages to say through his embarrassment. "We didn't realize anyone was here. We just wanted to get out of the storm. We'll leave."

"Why?" the ringmaster says in a soft voice. "You've only just arrived. No harm has been done."

A clown dressed entirely in purple, with splashes of red dispersed in various places, shuffles into the tent from the opposite side. Folded up in his arms are several articles of clothing. Circus clothes.

"You are completely soaked," the ringmaster intones. "Put these on until your own clothes are dry. We can't have you coughing up a lung, now can we?"

Joaquin manages a small laugh. Monica remains silent, watching the strange woman in purple.

"Funny you should say that," Joaquin replies. "I just got over pneumonia recently. I wouldn't wish that on anyone."

The ringmaster shifts her gaze from Joaquin to Monica, her eyes narrowing. Percy shuffles over to the married couple and offers them the pile of clothes.

"Thank you," Monica says politely.

Percy purposely makes eye contact with Monica and offers her a wide grin. He makes a point to touch her hand as he passes her the dress she is meant to wear. Monica blinks rapidly as several mental images, many sensual in nature, flash through her mind. She peers at Percy in awkward surprise. The clown simply nods and winks. Monica, unwilling to appear crazy, keeps silent about what she has seen.

"You may change in the back," the ringmaster says. "There are two booths. One male, one female. Although, you can also choose to use the same booth. Simply walk behind the partition you see there."

The ringmaster sweeps her cane in the direction of the far left corner of the tent. In the corner, there are two booths separated by a curtain.

"Thank you, Ma'am," Joaquin says.

A loud rumble of thunder follows Joaquin's words. The ringmaster grins widely, white teeth gleaming in the light.

"Don't mention it."

To be continued......